


Chicken „Dimples“

by Merenwen76



Series: Cradle of Love - Prompts and Gifts [7]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bottom Dean Winchester, Bunker, Comfort Food, Cooking, Established Relationship, M/M, Porn with Feelings, Rimming, SPN Holidays Gift Exchange, Top Sam Winchester, bj, mention of Hell
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-17
Updated: 2019-12-17
Packaged: 2021-02-26 00:42:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,747
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21834628
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Merenwen76/pseuds/Merenwen76
Summary: Dean creates food.Sam creates porn.The author is bad at summarizing
Relationships: Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester
Series: Cradle of Love - Prompts and Gifts [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1703056
Comments: 8
Kudos: 123
Collections: 2019 Supernatural & CWRPF Holiday Exchange





	Chicken „Dimples“

**Author's Note:**

  * For [zubeneschamali](https://archiveofourown.org/users/zubeneschamali/gifts).



> Written for the SPN J2 holiday Christmas XChange.  
> Zubeneschamali i adore you and your writing. I hope you like this gift for you! 
> 
> Beta, as always, by the one and only jerzcaligrl  
> Fair warning  
> Don’t read this when you’re hungry !

His fingers guide the knife with deadly precision. Each cut in a rhythmic unison. His hands are calm. The corners of his mouth lift in a smile. Dean's hips swings slightly to the music. Simon & Garfunkel. His head nods to the beat of the music. The black vinyl turns and fills the halls with music. 

Carrots, celery, and onions, perfectly chopped, wander into the big pot. 

"Look around, Leaves are brown, and the sky is a Hazy shade of winter."

Dean's voice is deep and smooth as bourbon. 

The chicken leg in front of him is cleaved off with the same finesse as the head of a vampire. The cracking of the breastbone makes him pause for a moment. How often has he had to save a lost soul? How often was it the last sound that stood between him and a monster? 

He releases the chicken's leg from the torso. The walls in the kitchen run red, the noise in his head gets stronger. 

Hell is present again today. 

The screams, the desperate calls for salvation. Only Dean didn't bring it, in Hell, he was the reason for it. 

The knife lies beside the board, his hands tremble slightly. Dean tries to calm down, his hand goes to the half empty beer bottle. With every sip, Hell disappears deeper into his body. 

The gray fades. 

The music resumes.

The chicken joins the vegetables. Dean browses through the cupboards of the kitchen, which is still unusual for him. "Ha!“ Laurel leaves are sprinkled triumphantly. Salt and pepper round everything out . Broth is added and the lid closes the pot.

The pot moves to the old stove. 

Their own kitchen.

Dean stands in front of the stove. 

Sometimes he still can't believe it.

They've been calling the bunker home for years now. It feels good and yet wrong at the same time.

The first few days they were so careful. At any time they expected an intruder. 

Routine that has become established over decades cannot be shaken off like dust from clothing. But nothing happened, and hours turned into days, days into weeks. Sam called it home after two days. Dean refused. Home was a memory. Him and Sammy and Mom and Dad. For Sam, this home didn't exist. In the past for Sam, home was a motel room from which no cockroaches crawled out from under the bed.

Flour and shortening are mixed in a large bowl, along with salt and baking powder. Combined with a fork. Milk is added a little at a time, until the mixture is smooth. Everything is mixed and a dough is formed. Almost unbelieving, Dean strokes the page of the cookbook with his fingers again and again. The letters tingling at his fingertips. He can fill an empty cartridge with salt while sleeping, but it still feels strange that his fingers now knead dough. New and yet good. 

His first attempt was a burger. Anything, just no Mac n Cheese. Too many memories, too many hardships. They have a kitchen now, damn it. 

Sam's eyes were shining as he took the first bite of the burger and Dean... was proud. He waited spellbound for Sam's verdict. Not a standard semi-warm cardboard burger, no,  _ this one _ was homemade. 

Back to the dough.

The work surface is floured. The rolling pin... Oh. Fuck, where the hell is that thing? 

Dean looks in cabinets and drawers. Nothing. Dean shrugs his shoulders and goes as a matter of course to the fridge. There's nothing a cold beer can't solve. And so the dough gives way, rolls out under the even press of the bottle. Dean's fingers glide over the cool body of the bottle, spreading the dough more and more in front of him.

It must be evenly thin. 

There are countless shapes for perfect dumplings. Half moons, ravioli, filled as tortellini.

Secretly he even saw a YouTube video. 

Half moon at the ass. 

He is no Martha Stewart, damn it. 

The knife doesn't slit a throat, but draws a straight line through the dough, then another and another. The same in the other direction until small floured squares lie in front of him. He can’t wait to see Sam’s reaction.

From the beginning, it was Sam's eyes that cast a spell over him. They were his greatest happiness and also his downfall. When Sam's eyes shine, it is as if the sun itself shines out of them. A sea of colors. And when those eyes ask, then there is only one answer for Dean.  _ Whatever you want, Sam. _

When Sam was born, it was always the best moment when Mom nursed him. Sam smelled like baby shampoo. His little fingers grabbed her chest and his eyes beamed. They sparkled. 

After Azazel, it was the worst moment. Mother's milk replaced by powder. Mary by Dean. Was the milk warm enough, or too hot? Would Sammy stop screaming? Drying the tears in his eyes? The little fingers grasping helplessly into the void. And Dean? Dean had to be there for him, had to take care of him. He wanted to cry himself, curl up and hate the world that had taken everything from him. But then Sam's eyes laughed and looked directly into Dean's soul. And he drank from the warm bottle Dean gave him. And Dean smiled back. 

The chicken and vegetables are removed, the dumplings added to the broth. Skin and bones are discarded and the chicken is chopped.

The dumplings simmer in the hot broth.

Heat the meat long enough and the skin will come off on its own. The peeling is not difficult, he remembers, it is the screams that he will never forget. They will haunt him for the rest of his life. The second drained bottle of beer lands clattering next to the trash can. 

He has gone to Hell for Sam. How many can boast of this claim? How many would really do it? 

Being in Hell wasn't the worst. 

But to see Sam jump into the cage with Michael and Lucifer. That was Dean's greatest punishment.

He turns the page of the cookbook. A light shimmer runs over the letters. He feels warm and good. 

Parsley and thyme where minced. The fresh smell of the herbs fills the kitchen. 

Gently he stirs in the heavy whipping cream along with the fresh herbs. 

Seasoned with salt and pepper. 

Footsteps break through the silence of the corridors. Dean stirs one last time and opens the upper cabinet to remove two plates. The steps come closer. It's always the same. Sam has a feeling for when to show up. Be it in a fight, a moment of weakness, or simply because the food is ready. Dean smells him before he feels him. Sam's big hands are around his hips. Dean feels himself being pulled close against his brother's body. And he breathes out. He turns his head, tipping his nose over Sam's long neck. He breathes in. Of all the ingredients in this, or any other world, Sam is the only one he would always miss. The only one whose taste he never wants to lose again since he tasted it for the first time. The forbidden fruit. Sweet and beguiling. Perfect. His lips glide over Sam's beard stubble. His teeth nibble tenderly on his chin.

He feels Sam's body moving behind him, nestling even closer to him. Slowly he turns into Sam's embrace. Sam's hands wander across his chest, glide across his neck until they embrace his face. Their eyes find each other. And like every time he gazes into Sam's eyes and sees the love and passion shining in them, he could explode with happiness. Sam's eyes get darker. His gaze is almost arrogant. He knows that he gets what he desires. His eyes searching and apparently finding whatever he was looking for, and without any more warning his lips crashed into Dean's, claiming his mouth in a hard, demanding kiss. Dean moans and welcomes Sam's tongue into his mouth. His cock twitching as Sam's knee presses up against his groin. Sam moves his mouth to Dean's ear and begins to suck and bite in earnest at his earlobe. Dean closes his eyes, moaning like a slutty teen, and thinks maybe he is going to come in his fucking pants.

Sam kisses him again and again, biting tenderly into Dean's full, perfectly formed lower lip. His fingertips glide over Dean's neck and collarbone. They open his flannel shirt button by button. Expose naked skin. Dean's hands rest on the kitchen table. His legs open further to give Sam's body even more room to bring him even closer to Dean. The cold air on his naked skin makes his nipples harden. The shirt slides to the floor. Sam's warm hands caress every millimeter. His two index fingers encircle Dean's hard nipples. With each circle they approach the delicate little knobs that eagerly await his touch.

Then finally, Sam's thumb and index finger each include a nipple . Turn, tweak, and pull on them. Dean throws his head back, exposing his throat, and groans loudly. His cock pressing hard and leaking against his jeans. Sam's lips wander down his neck, his tongue gliding through Dean's sweat. Dean feels just how much Sam enjoys this dominance. How excited he is when he can bring Dean to ecstasy.

Sam cupped a hand over Dean's hard cock, rubbing it, feeling it getting even harder under his touch. Sam pulls himself off his brother's body. Without breaking eye contact, he removes his shirt, then his jeans. He palms his erection, standing proud and hard against his black briefs. 

Sam smiles as he closes the distance between the two. "I want you, here and now." He murmurs in Dean's ear and his whispering words create goose bumps all over Dean's body. "Sam..." Dean starts, but he doesn't know how to finish the sentence. Sam's hands are back on Dean's body. Fingernails scratch his jeans, drive along the inside of his thighs. "So beautiful, and mine, only mine." Sam's lips suck on Dean's nipple, his tongue licking over and over the little, hard bud. Dean breathes heavily. His cheeks are red with arousal. Sam opens Dean's belt, the zipper revealing Sam's real target piece by piece. When the trousers finally fall to the ground, Dean hurriedly steps out. His hands now search Sam's body as well, stroking, scratching Sam's bare back, grabbing his hair, demanding more wet kisses. Dean feels strong hands on his ass lifting him up like he weighs nothing and placing him down on the kitchen table. 

He wouldn't allow anyone else to handle him this way, he thinks, quickly pulling his shorts off of his body. No one else would be allowed to spread his legs further apart and stroke their fingers from the tip of his tailbone, across the entire shaft, to his delicate hole.

Sam runs his fingers back over the tip, smearing precome over it. He runs his tongue along the vein on the underside of Dean's cock and grab Dean's hips to keep him in place. Sam lowers his mouth onto Deans throbbing cock, opening his lips and sucking Dean's cock down, letting it hit the back of his throat. Dean feels it as Sam swallows around his mouthful . „Fuck, fuck Sam!“ Dean runs his fingers through Sam's thick hair while Sam hums around his cock. Dean feels tendrils of pleasure sparking throughout his body. With an obscene pop he lets go of Dean's cock and pulls his own briefs down. He steps back between the vee of Dean's legs and starts to kiss him again. Their dicks collide and Sam's huge hand takes them both and pumps them with long, strong strokes. Between kisses Dean hears Sam talking, telling him how gorgeous he is, how much he loves him and wants to fuck him, and Dean takes the words in, sucks on Sam's lips, and pushes his dick further into Sam's hand. He wants Sam, wants him to fuck him senseless.

A low moan breaks from the back of Dean's throat when Sam suddenly pulls him down from the kitchen table and spins him around. Dean feels Sam pressed up tightly against his back, , the kitchen table preventing him from slipping away . „So good.. so good for me.“ 

Sam takes his time, and with a half frustrated, half horny growl Dean responds when Sam lowers his head and parts Dean's cheeks, using the tip of his tongue to draw wet circles around Dean's hole. „Fuck, Sam, for fucks sake stop teasing.“ But Dean almost swallows his own tongue when he feels Sam licking over his hole, hands on his inner thighs, thumbs spreading his cheeks as he starts to lick Dean open, forcing his tongue inside the hole, wetting him as well as he can.

Sam reaches for the oil flacon while placing little bites all over Dean's back. „Really, Sam?“ he questions him, but just gets a muffled „S`nothing else here“ as an answer. He feels slick fingers running over his puckered hole just before a single finger enters him. Sam again takes his time, enjoying teasing him, opening him and pressing down on his prostate until Dean is just a whimpering, sweating, practically sobbing mess. When Sam finally,  _ finally _ enters him, a long, deep moan escapes over his red and swollen lips.

Dean shudders at the feelings of pleasure and slight pain searing through his body. He is rocking against Sam's cock, feeling each strong thrust deep into him. Feels Sam's lust, his love, his passion, while he fucks him hard. „Sam..Sam“ he rasps as he reaches the point of no return. Sam grabs his hips tighter and brings their bodies together faster and harder. He feels Sam still, muscles locking, before coming inside of him, hot bursts shooting into him, filling his ass, running down his thighs. Feels Sam's cock still pulsing in him, Sam wrapping his hand around Dean's cock, stroking him. His own hand joins Sam's, forcing him to stroke faster and harder. He feels his balls drew up tight to his body when the first ribbon of come shoots from his dick. Sam strokes him through his whole orgasm and when his knees give out, they sink down onto the kitchen tiles, their back at the table. They kiss once more. Trying to calm down. With no shame, Sam smears Dean's come all over his body. Licks the last drops into his mouth. 

As Dean comes back to himself, he looks around, seeing the pile of clothes, the spatula laying on the ground, and he starts to chuckle. „What the hell was that?“

Sam leans his head back against the table and grins at his brother. „I would call it pretty hot kitchen sex!“. Dean looks at him.“I meant, fuck I never.. I mean  _ we _ never .. that was unexpected .. hot..yes, but unexpected!“

„I know.“ Sam replies, pulling his briefs back on. „I was just passing by, but then I smelled the food, and saw you and .. I don't know, all I wanted was to kiss you, to take you.“ 

„You mean my cooking skills make me irresistible ?“

„Maybe?“ Sam's face flushes, looking almost shyly from under his bangs. He stands up to fetch a spoon to finally try the dish.“Oh my God this is incredible.“ 

Dean slowly stands up. „Really? He rubs his hand down his short hair. „I have the recipe from this book.“ 

„Mmm“ where did you find it?“

„The book? On one of the shelves. Why? You think it's a cursed book that makes us have hot, horny sex in the kitchen?“ 

Sam grins at him. „Only way to find out, right?“ He slaps Dean's ass while he gets two fresh beers out of the fridge. „You have flour on your cheeks.“ Sam laughs while he leans back against the refrigerator, opens his bottle and takes a sip. Dean runs his fingers lightly over his own face and Sam smiles again.“Don’t mean  _ those  _ cheeks“.

Dean's face beams up at Sam, turning a bit red himself. . „You know what, that's the last time I cook for you! Screw it! It's takeout from now on.“

Sam walks over and places a kiss on his nose. 

Dean hates it. He is no Martha Stewart.

The next day, there is a clean kitchen waiting for him and the cookbook lays open.

Meatloaf and mashed potatoes. 

Dean starts humming.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



End file.
